


Baby It's Cold Outside

by psychotraumatic



Category: SEVENTEEN (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Fluff, Implied Relationships, Inspired by Music, JunHoon - Freeform, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-02-01
Updated: 2019-02-01
Packaged: 2019-10-20 09:08:46
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,237
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17619557
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/psychotraumatic/pseuds/psychotraumatic
Summary: Junhui takes up all the blank spaces and empty corners he didn't think needed filling. And somehow, Jihoon is fine with that.





	Baby It's Cold Outside

A gust of wind makes him dip his head further into his scarf in a futile attempt to shield himself from the cold. He curses the wind under his breath, but continues to trudge across campus nonetheless. It’s winter break, and the school is fairly still. If the weather was more forgiving, he may consider stopping for a moment and admire the calmness of it all. Alas, such is not the case.

He heaves a sigh of relief when he finally enters the performance arts building. The interior is warm, allowing him to unravel his scarf and tear open his jacket. In any other situation, being alone in an empty building will creep anyone out. But school’s out for the winter, and he doesn’t really have anywhere else to be. So he makes his way through the empty hallways, taking a straight path to the dance studio.

“What a way to celebrate the holidays.”

Pushing the sadness to the back of his mind, he starts warming up, humming a random tune as he goes. It takes him mere minutes to finish his stretches before he hooks his phone to the sound system, dancing to whatever melody comes on. He has a piece to choreograph, but he’s not quite sure which direction to take it. So he spins, jumps, flips, and twirls, hoping for inspiration to strike – but to no avail.

He decides to take a break, chugs down a bottle of water, and swipes at his phone. His eyes widen comically when he sees the time, seeing how over three hours have passed since he entered the room. The realization somehow triggers his body, stomach grumbling as a reminder to eat something more than an energy bar.

He quickly decides on leaving the studio, giving up on the notion that he can make progress today. After changing his shirt and pulling on his coat, he drags his gaze across the room, making sure he leaves nothing behind. He’s just about to turn off the lights when the ping of his phone echoes against the walls.

_If you’re in the dance studio or heading there, can you do me a favor? Check recording room 7, please._

He frowns at the message, wondering if his friend is sending him on some wild goose chase, but he replies an affirmative nonetheless.

_If he’s there, please convince him to eat. Or sleep. Whichever of the two seems more appropriate._

He doesn’t have much time to decipher what his friend means, already having made his way to stand in front of the designated recording studio. If the light filtering through the frosted pane of the door and the slight vibrations under his feet were anything to go by, he guesses this is what the favor was about. He knocks a few times, waits patiently for a few minutes, but no one answers. He turns the knob on a whim, smiling in victory when he realizes it’s unlocked.

He takes a tentative step into the studio, calling out a soft hello to make up for his intrusion. It’s then that someone steps out of the recording booth. The two freeze at the sight of each other, perhaps neither expecting the other’s presence, though the awkwardness is short-lived.

“I should have known it was you.”

“Let me guess,” the other sighs as he sits in front of the computer. “Soonyoung?”

“The one and only,” he replies with a flourish. “I have instructions to make sure you eat.”

The statement hangs in the air as silence falls between them. It’s another few beats before he gets a blank stare that slowly morphs into resignation.

“I could eat.”

“Cool. What do you feel like having, Jihoon?”

“Are you telling me your mind isn’t dead set on noodles, Junhui?”

 

×××

 

It’s over hot bowls of beef noodles that they talk about Soonyoung bringing them together.

“So I know why I’m here,” Junhui starts, “but what’s your story?”

“I just didn’t feel like going home for the holidays,” Jihoon shrugs.

“I wish I had that problem.”

“Sorry.”

Junhui dismisses him with a wave of his hand. “Don’t worry about it,” he says. “My family and I knew the consequences of me studying in Seoul. I can hardly save enough to buy a plane ticket home, much less have the three of them fly here.”

“I thought you were planning to go home with your roommate,” Jihoon muses. “What happened to that?”

“Are you telling me you don’t know?”

“I wouldn’t ask if I did.”

Junhui squints his eyes, making it appear as if he was looking for any indication of a lie. He whistles lowly when he sees nothing.

“What?”

“Your best friend just hid something from you,” he states before smugly popping a piece of beef into his mouth.

“What are you talking about?”

“I didn’t go with Wonwoo because he’s not going home either,” Junhui explains.

“He’s staying on campus too?”

“Nope,” he replies with a snicker. “He went home with Soonyoung.”

In hindsight, Junhui knows he should have timed his delivery better. He flails about when Jihoon starts choking on his bite of food, nearly knocking the pitcher of water over in his haste to help relieve the other.

“It’s that serious?” Jihoon asks once he could breathe again.

Junhui regales him with the story of how the holiday setup came to be. Soonyoung had apparently been nagging at Wonwoo’s aversion to seafood despite coming from a coastal town.

_“That’s like me not eating the vegetables that my parents farm!”_

_“I’d gladly choose to eat veggies for the rest of my life rather than eat seafood.”_

_“Do you want to come home with me instead? Mom would love to stuff you.”_

Jihoon looks dumbstruck once the gossip sinks in, much like Junhui was when he watched it happen before his eyes. He tells the smaller boy just as much, causing Jihoon to snort.

“They’re so stupid,” he grumbles.

“Birds of a feather, I guess.”

They spend the rest of the meal in idle chatter. It’s only when Jihoon attempts to fight off a yawn that Junhui remembers the other part of Soonyoung’s message.

“I was also told to make sure you sleep.”

Jihoon blinks slowly, the tiredness on his face already visible, shoulders dropping under the taller boy’s scrutinizing gaze. Junhui can be nag when he wants something, and it’s apparent that it’s to see Jihoon off to bed.

Junhui smiles to himself when the other shuffles awkwardly out of the booth, not even realizing that he’s yet to pay for his meal. Jihoon is a stickler for doing things on his own, and it’s somewhat refreshing for Junhui to see the other a little more relaxed. While Jihoon sleepily makes his way out of the restaurant, Junhui pays for their food and follows soon after.

It’s a quiet walk back to campus, which Junhui has no intention to break. That is until he sees Jihoon visibly shudder in his thin coat. Junhui moves closer, and feels thankful that Jihoon’s senses aren’t as strong when he’s tired, allowing the taller boy to throw his wool scarf around the other’s neck. Jihoon neither flinches nor rejects it, just burrows his face further into the warm cloth instead.

Junhui wonders if Jihoon is aware of how cute an image he makes. He doesn’t dare ask it out loud, of course.

 

* * *

 

 

Jihoon is the one to find Junhui the next day, ironically also because of a message from Soonyoung.

_ Help him out, please. I don’t want to come back after winter break to find out that he broke himself. _

Regardless how many times he reads over it, he doesn’t quite understand, resolving himself to teach Soonyoung how to not speak in riddles when school starts back up. But once Jihoon enters the dance studio, he realizes what the message is about.

He expected Junhui to be dancing in circles, twisting and turning his body beyond a normal person’s imagination or capability. Instead, Jihoon finds the Chinese boy lying on the ground, blindly tapping on his phone every few seconds, playing snippets of songs one after the other.

“It’s harder to pick a track if you only listen to three seconds of it.”

He snickers when Junhui startles, limbs moving all over the place as he attempts to roll over. It becomes a full laugh as Jihoon gets a glare in response.

“Soonyoung sent me,” he says simply. “Am I the only one who finds it weird that he knows exactly what’s going on? Does he have surveillance cameras on us or something?”

“You’re his best friend,” Junhui muses, an eyebrow arched mockingly. “Even if he has the means to get hidden cameras, do you honestly believe he’s cunning enough to do that sort of thing?”

Jihoon scoffs at the insinuation regarding Soonyoung’s intelligence, playfully shaking his fist as if to warn the other. “No one can insult Soonyoung other than me!”

They share a quick laugh before Jihoon’s previous comment registers, prompting Junhui to ask what the music major was doing in his neck of the performance arts building.

“Soonyoung mentioned how you tend to lose track of time when you’re choreographing,” Jihoon says with a shrug. “He says to drag you away for a meal. I figured I need to pay you back for yesterday anyway.”

Jihoon waits as Junhui puts on a look of contemplation, likely weighing out the pros and cons of leaving the dance studio when he seems unable to make any progress as of yet. Jihoon throws in how he thinks better when he has a full stomach, musing about the large cereal box he keeps stashed in the recording studios. Though he also says he can do with a hot bowl or two of kimchi stew. It’s enough to convince Junhui to pick himself up from the floor.

“At this point, I’ll try anything,” the dancer says with a sigh, “even if it comes from someone who has questionable sense of time when he’s working, too.”

“Shut it or I’ll make you pay for our meal again.”

 

×××

 

_ “Have you ever had a song stuck in your head?” _

The question wasn’t all that surprising to Jihoon. He was able to answer an affirmative for Junhui right away when the dancer voiced it out over dinner.

_ “How do you get it out?” _

_ “What do you mean?” _

_ “See, that’s where my problem lies. I don’t get it myself,” Junhui says, shoulders hunching as he curls in on himself. The image he makes gives Jihoon an urge to wrap him up in a blanket. _

_ Jihoon cocks an eyebrow, gaze judging as the dancer continues to whine and mumble through mouthfuls of kimchi fried rice. It wasn’t until he was done eating that Junhui attempts to tell him the problem again. _

_ Jihoon listens as Junhui laments over his choreography assignment, how he has a set of moves that he knows he wants to put together, only he’s unsure where to start when he can’t hear the music for it. No melody. No beat. Nothing. _

_ “I have the choreography stuck in my head,” Junhui continues somberly. “I know what I want the dance to look like. I just can’t bring myself to start when I can’t imagine what sound I want as a backdrop.” _

Jihoon didn’t have much to offer during their dinner conversation, but it’s a different story for the morning after.

Junhui still has sleep lines on his cheek when he opens the door, effectively stopping Jihoon’s excessive knocking.

“I thought you usually wake up early,” Jihoon says as he walks in, stopping in the middle of the room to marvel at how clean it is compared to his and Soonyoung’s dorm. “I went to the dance studio first but you weren’t there.”

Junhui sighs, plopping back onto his bed as Jihoon wanders about. “I figured I needed a break. Maybe staying away from the dance room can help clear my head or something. Plus, it’s getting too cold out. I don’t care if you say it’s only a 5-minute walk to the arts building. If I end up doing nothing for my choreography, I might as well be warm for the entirety of my failed attempts.”

“Dramatic much?”

“I actually wanted to be an actor when I was a kid,” Junhui muses. “Do you think they’d still allow me to switch majors this late in the game?”

“Shut up,” Jihoon says with a roll of his eyes. “Get up and go shower. You’re coming with me.”

“So bossy,” Junhui quips.

Jihoon listens half-heartedly as the dancer flits around, opening drawers and pulling out clothing all while mumbling about missing Wonwoo and saying how his roommate will probably be doing the bare minimum if he was around.

“Yeah, well too bad,” Jihoon shrugs. “He gets to be lazy and is probably being babied at Soonyoung’s house while you’re stuck with me.”

Junhui stops to look at him, eyes blinking slowly before an all too saccharine grin tugs his lips upwards. “You never know.  _ You _ might me the one stuck with  _ me. _ ”

Jihoon doesn’t get the chance to reply before Junhui skips out of the room to go to the communal bathrooms.

Jihoon is glad that the other is quick on his toes. He’s not quite sure what to say if he suddenly blurts out how being stuck with Junhui doesn’t sound like a bad situation at all.


End file.
